Fortuna's Bitter Smile
by Clio
Summary: The war against Voldemort is over. The victorious allies of Howarts have all reason to celebrate, or haven't they? A trilogy of shortstories, featuring Harry Potter, Minerva MacGonagall, Colin Creevy, Severus Snape, Hagrid, and Remus Lupin. AU since Oot.
1. London

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**_Disclaimer_**   
_Everything, every location, every character belongs to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Pub., Warner Brothers or whoever might currently hold the rights of Harry Potter. I swear, I don't make money out of this. Wish I would._   
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_**A/N**: This is the first of three scenes that kept crossing my mind. This trilogy is set in the future, after the war with Voldemort. It is only remotely related to my stories 'East of Eden' and 'Unfamiliar Roads'._**__**

**_This might be a bit depressing, consider yourself warned._**   
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**Fortuna's Bitter Smile**   
**by Clio**

Beta-read by Darkwing 

_Repost! The original titel was Peace on Earth. I have always hated the title, plus I made some minor changes._   


**Part 1-London**

Harry could not sleep. He had tried for hours now; staring with open eyes to the ceiling, counting sheep, keeping his eyes closed firm. Nothing had helped. He couldn't stop his mind from racing.   
With a sigh he gave up and opened his eyes once again. He allowed them to wander around in the hospital room. They traveled   
to the empty bed, whose occupant had died at dusk. In another bed, opposite of his own, lay a boy he knew from Hogwarts. Malcolm Baddock, he thought was his name. He was in a deep coma, and Harry was sure he wouldn't survive the next day. The fourth bed in the room was occupied by an elderly man, who was sleeping soundly. Harry envied him. 

A movement of the curtains in a breeze caught his eye. The doors to a little balcony on the end of the room were open, and on   
the balcony Harry could see a man standing in the bright moonlight. His tall figure leaned against the wrought-iron balustrade, he   
was looking over the panorama of nightly London, slowly smoking a cigarette. 

Harry watched the man for a while, who was standing there upright and unmoving, lighting and slowly smoking a second and a   
third cigarette. When he finally threw away the last stub and turned towards the window, Harry saw his suspicion confirmed. It was Professor Snape, wearing the same white robe with 'St Mungo's' printed on it as Harry was. It was a strong   
contrast to his usual black robes. Silently he closed the balcony doors and made his way through the room, supporting his ginger and unsteady steps with crutches. 

Harry closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. He could hear the soft clank of the crutches coming closer and stopping at the   
foot of his bed. It was a while until the sound started again. Harry opened his eyes and looked at the retreating form of Snape. 

He didn't know why he gave up his pretense, maybe he needed company in a night like this, even if it were the company of his   
potion master. " Err, ... Professor?" 

Snape turned. " I thought you were asleep, Potter. Do you believe these childish games are appropriate when someone comes   
to check on you?" 

Harry was glad the twilight in the room masked his blush. Childish games indeed. He was no more a child. Even less after the   
events of the last 48 hours. "I couldn't sleep, Sir." 

Snape nodded. "Me neither." 

It was the most personal statement Snape had ever made in his presence. For some reason it encouraged Harry to continue. "Tomorrow they are going to have a specialist examine me, you know. And I'm scared." 

Upon this confession Snape looked at Harry searchingly for a while, then he waved his hand at a chair at Harry's bedside. "Mind if I sit down?" 

" No." 

Snape walked haltingly towards the chair. With a painful grimace he sank into it. 

"How are your injuries?" Harry asked. 

"The Medwizards did a good job," Snape replied curtly. It was obvious that he didn't want to talk about it. 

Harry saw that he was still holding the lighter in his hand. " I saw you smoking on the balcony. Can you see the Ministry of Magic from out there?" 

Snape sighed. " A nasty muggle habit, yes. You can run off and tell your little friends about it, if you want to." 

Harry was slightly offended by the snide remark, but he also couldn't help but notice that Snape had ignored his question. He   
decided not to be put off so easily. " The Ministry, that's where Dumbledore is now, right?" 

Snape followed his look to the window. "Yes, the Headmaster is laid out in state in there. You can see the roof of the west-wing when you are standing on the balcony." After a moment of silence Snape added in a low voice: "Great man, Dumbledore. So many great wizards and witches have died in the battles." 

Images of people he had witnessed dying flashed through Harry's head. Dumbledore, Sirius, George Weasley and his father   
Arthur, Professor Sprout, even Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. 

Softly Snape continued. "The funeral ceremony will be held here in London the day after tomorrow. It would have been in   
Hogwarts, but the castle is damaged so badly, the Great Hall can't be used. Albus will be buried on the grounds later. It will be a private ceremony, just like he wanted it to be." Snape fell silent. Deep in thought he added after a while: "All Headmasters of Hogwarts have their graves on the grounds." 

After a minute Harry spoke up. "I will not be able to attend the funeral. I will be in Paris to see that specialist for, well, magical   
injuries of this kind. They will send me there at dawn-break. The doctors here say that my loss of magical abilities might only be   
temporary. The magic might come back to me. Do you think... they will be able to...to restore it?" 

Snape turned his head to look at him. In the pale moonlight filtering through the curtains Harry could see the fresh scar in Snape's face. From the left eye-socket it was running all the way down to the jaw line. Snape noticed his look and brushed his fingers gingerly over the scar. "Doesn't make me prettier, does it? I should have known that Dementors carry swords into a battle." He grinned humorlessly. 

" Please Sir, you have always been honest to me, no matter how much it hurts me. Do you think my magic will return?   
Do you think I am still a wizard?" Harry noted that his voice sounded more desperate than he intended it to do. 

Snape turned very serious. "Well, Harry, a temporary loss of magic is possible." He paused to run a hand through his greasy hair. Then he continued in the same scholarly tone he used in his classes. "It is rare, but it has happened to wizards before. It sometimes occurs when people are very ill. It's an protection mechanism of the body to prevent an additional loss of   
energy through casting spells." 

Harry noted that Snape was not calling him Potter for the first time ever. He shook his head. "But I'm not ill. I feel fine!" 

"When did you first notice that you couldn't cast spells anymore?" Snape asked with scientific interest. 

"Right after... , well, afterwards, when some Death Eaters were attacking me and Sirius. I was no help to Sirius," Harry said sadly, trying to fight down the image of Sirius desperately defending himself against three Death Eaters at once. 

"So we can safely assume that you lost your magic when killing Voldemort?" Snape looked searchingly at Harry, who nodded. 

Some moments in silence passed before Snape spoke up next. "I'm not an expert in this field, but it looks like your magic abilities were somehow destroyed along with Voldemort. I'm afraid to say so, but I fear your magic is gone forever, just like Voldemort himself. I could be wrong, though." 

Harry closed his eyes. _His magic gone forever_. What if he were really not a wizard anymore? What if he really had turned into the Muggle he had thought he were for his first eleven years? Would he still be able to attend Hogwarts? Think of a happy memory, he commanded himself, just as being faced with a Dementor. Think of Hogwarts. 

"Err, Hogwarts, will it be rebuild?" He asked Snape who looked at him with apprehension. 

"Of course it will. There are heavy damages at the castle from the attack, but it is not totally destroyed. It will take some time to   
repair the building as well as to reconstruct the many protection spells around it. I'm positive that we can resume classes after   
Christmas." Snape looked at the unconscious boy in the bed on the opposite wall. " Malcolm Baddock. He is one of my students from Slytherin. There will be many empty seats in the Great Hall." 

"Who will be the new Headmaster?" 

Harry received no answer. Snape was still looking pensively at the injured Slytherin boy. 

"Is there already a decision made about the new Headmaster or Headmistress? Who will it be?" Harry turned towards Snape   
to see, if he heard him at all. 

As if a heavy burden was weighting his shoulders down, Snape sat slightly bend forward, his lips pressed into a tight white line. He clenched and unclenched his hands in his lap. The movement made something small at his hands sparkle in the sparse moonlight. 

Harry looked closer at the glittering object, that had caught his attention. It was a signet-ring. He was absolutely sure he had   
never seen Snape, unlike Dumbledore or Fudge, wear any jewelry. The ring seemed to be made from solid gold. On a little   
plate some ornaments were engraved. 

Harry squeezed his eyes to see it properly. The ring held the small pictures of a badger, a raven, a snake and a lion, all combined in a crest with a big H in the center. 

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_**A/N**: I appreciate any comments. Thank you for reading._   
  



	2. The Forbidden Forest

**Fortuna's Bitter Smile**   
A Harry Potter fanfic by Clio 

Beta-read by Darkwing   


_**A/N: **For part 2 the rating of my little trilogy had to go up. If you are easily shocked by violence or if you are still a child, stay clear of this part. I promise part 3 will be less brutal._   


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**_Disclaimer_**   
_Everything, every location, every character belongs to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Pub., Warner Brothers or whoever might currently hold the rights of Harry Potter. I swear, I don't make money out of this._   
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**Part 2- The Forbidden Forest**

_Earlier that night..._

Remus Lupin had wandered all day through the Forbidden Forest. After the battle he had fled into the soothing green coolness of the trees, not ready for any kind of celebration. He needed some time on his own. And now there was this boy on the clearing in front of him. He was sitting on a stone in the last rays of the evening sun. Lupin considered to back away, but the teacher in him felt responsible for the lost boy. 

The child looked up when he heard someone approaching him. "Professor Lupin! Thank god it is you !" 

"Whom did you expect?" 

"Oh, well, I got lost and I'm so afraid of all the wild beasts that are rumored to live here." 

"You got lost?" 

The boy started to weep silently. " I... I ran away during the battle. I'm such a coward. Oh, you wouldn't understand it." 

Lupin frowned. "You are Colin Creevy, aren't you?" The boy nodded. 

"What is it that you think I wouldn't understand?" 

"To be scared! I'm in Gryffindor, I should be brave." 

Lupin shook his head slowly. Cowardice had nothing to do with the Hogwarts houses. He himself was the best example he could think of. Cowardice was also found in Gryffindor. In contrast to his own feelings he said, "There is no need for everyone to be a hero, Colin. Many people are afraid of fights. It doesn't mean you are a coward." 

" But I should have helped my friends. I..., I saw those people dying, and I did nothing to help them." 

Lupin looked to the treetops. So much like him. He had let down his friends in the face of danger, too. Twice. Lily and James had died because he had refused to be their Secret Keeper. And Sirius had died only this morning, because he had refused to accompany him when he went off to search Harry. 

"Do I disgust you, Professor?" 

"What?" 

"I mean, you are such a brave man, knowing all about Defense against the Dark Arts and such. I'm so ashamed that you tried to teach me all those spells, and ... and today I couldn't use any of them." 

Well, not such a brave man, Lupin thought. Once Dumbledore had told him never to let his werewolf condition stop him from anything he wanted to do. And yet he had used it twice as an excuse. He had backed out of the Secret Keeper spell because of it. And today he had told Sirius, that he was afraid Voldemort could somehow put him under an Imperius curse and use him against his friends. What a lame excuse. Had he gone with Sirius, he would be still alive.   


"No, don't think that. You don't have to be ashamed of your fear." He said to the boy. But I do, Lupin wanted to add. How was he supposed to comfort a student, when he was hardly able to control his own feelings? He was guilty of Sirius death, as much as he was guilty of James and Lily's death. 

To his great annoyance Colin continued to tell him about his view of todays events. "You know, I was standing right next to Professor Sprout when the Death Eater attacked her. I saw him approaching her from behind, but I just could not warn her. I couldn't say anything. You know, I ... I wetted myself, but I couldn't move." The boy indicated the still dark spots on his robe. His nose started to run. 

I should hand him a handkerchief, the adult in Lupin observed. But all Lupin wanted to do was run away from the brat, run away into the woods. 

"Do you know what taedium vitae means?" he asked the boy. 

"Huh?" 

"Nevermind, child." 

An unpleasant thought suddenly crossed Lupin's mind and he checked the sky. It had become dark, and it was only a matter of minutes until the full moon would rise. 

" Listen, Colin, I have to go now. " 

"Ok." 

"You can't come with me! If you go straight into that direction, you will get to Hogwarts." 

Horror surfaced on Colin's face. " What do you mean? Do I have to go there alone?" 

Lupin nodded. 

" But, ....but why? Why can't you come with me? It's dangerous here in the forest! I'm so afraid of the dark!" 

You better are, thought Lupin. He already felt a familiar itching crawl up his spine; only minutes until he would become a werewolf. He snarled at the boy: "Go back to the castle, Colin. NOW!" 

It only intimidated him further. With a yelp Colin grabbed his sleeve. " No, don't leave me alone, professor!" 

Panic clouded Lupin's brain. He had get as far away from the boy as possible. "Let go, stupid child," he yelled, and struggled to free his arm from the boys steely grip. Every second was counting now. Finally he managed to fight the boy off. Without having a second look at Colin, Lupin ran into the forest. 

Too late. Moonlight began to filter through the trees above him, and submissively Lupin fell to his hands and knees and allowed the beast to conquer his soul.   


A minute later the sharp ears of the wolf in the underbrush picked up a desperate voice behind him. " Professor! Where are you? I can't see you anymore!" Each word was followed by a heartbreaking sob. Slowly the animal got up and went towards the voice. Lupin's human mind fought every single step, but he couldn't stop the wolf from walking towards the clearing. 

And then the wolf stood at the edge of the thicket. In the bright moonlight he could see Colin in the center of the clearing. He made a hesitant step into the meadow. Now the boy could see him, too. 

For a moment they stood there facing each other in silence. Lupin could see the terror in Colin's eyes, smell his fear. He stood rooted to the spot, the human mind still able to control the wolf. All he could do was stare at the boy. He had been in this situation before, ages ago, facing another horror-struck boy in school-robes, only that his scarf had been green and silver, not yellow and red like Colin's. The other boy had had the wits and the self-control to slowly back away from the wolf in the tunnel, avoiding every hasty movement. And yet, in the very last moment, when James at the trapdoor above them had pulled him up to safety, the wolf had attacked. He had only been able to tear off a patch of the boy's robe, and he could remember how he had angrily ripped the fabric to pieces during that night. 

A sudden movement of the boy in the clearing brought his attention back to the presence. Colin turned and ran shrieking into the forest. In this moment Lupin lost his fight with the wolf. The running feet where the last stimulus the wolf's mind needed to take over. Lupin charged to the edge of the forest where Colin had disappeared. 

He saw him running in front of him. He could smell the urine, the fear and the sweat, he could see the whirling legs, he could hear the body braking through the twigs. The boy was reduced to a prey. 

And Lupin became the predator, hunting it down. Adrenaline rushed through his veins when he came closer to his victim with every leap. 

And then he hurled himself against the back of the prey, making it stumble and fall. It cried out in fear- an inhuman sound. The cry died down to a choking when the wolf buried his fangs in its throat. Pleasure washed over the wolf with an intensity Lupin, the man, had never experienced. And yet he felt anger. An ferocious anger about the silvery moonlight, about the silent sobs and the human smell of his prey. Furiously the wolf began to tear at the robes until the fabric gave way to his attacks. Some threads got caught behind his teeth and cut into his gum, but he didn't care in his fury. 

When he had shredded every piece of clothing he could find, the bare skin was visible. His anger was replaced with satisfaction when he savagely sunk his teeth in the body in front of him. He could feel the flesh tear, and then he tasted the metallic saltiness of the blood running down his throat. The wolf experienced overwhelming joy, which slowly faded to hate again.   
Anew he attacked the flesh to feel the thrilling satisfaction once more. 

In blind ecstasy the wolf was biting down into the bloodied body repeatedly, unable to stop. Lupin, the human, would have had a word for this- bloodlust, but the wolf only followed his ferocious urge. 

The wolf's feelings changed in a rapid sequence now- anger, satisfaction, joy. He sank his fangs into his prey again and again and again as long as the night lasted. 

It was the wolf's first kill. 

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_**A/N**: I'm very insecure about this chapter. It is the darkest piece I have ever written. Do you think it's disgusting or insane or something? Is Lupin too much OOC? Gimme feedback!_   
_Oh, taedium vitae means world-weariness. It is kind of a mild death-wish._


	3. The Ministry

**Fortuna's Bitter Smile**   
A Harry Potter fanfic by Clio 

Beta-read by Darkwing 

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**_Disclaimer_**   
_Everything, every location, every character belongs to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Pub., Warner Brothers or whoever might currently hold the rights of Harry Potter. I swear, I don't make money out of this._   
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_**A/N**: I'm unable to write Hagrid with a proper Scottish accent. Sorry for that._   


**Part 3- At the Ministry**

_Another dialogue overheard in the night after the ultimate victory of the wizarding world over Lord Voldemort..._   


When Hagrid entered the dim-lit auditory, in which the ministry usually held its press conferences and the annual Halloween fundraiser for the Unicorn Wildlife Reserves, he immediately started to cry. He didn't want to, but the atmosphere in the hall, the candles and smell of wood just brought the tears welling up into his eyes until his gigantic body was reduced to sobs. 

Upon Hagrid's entry a figure next to the bier in the center got up. " Rubeus, what took you so long?" demanded the harsh voice of Minerva McGonagall. 

Hagrid, lost for words, just stared at the flowers, the candles, and the body of Albus Dumbledore, greatest wizard of his time. He looked older and frailer than he had ever done in life. Although his vision was blurred by tears Hagrid noticed the stern look of McGonagall resting on him. She looked controlled as ever, but her red laced eyes spoke volumes. 

"Now, Rubeus, get a hold of yourself." 

Hagrid struggled hard to obey her, but failed miserably. 

McGonagall was sympathetic enough to grant him 5 minutes in silence. Then she asked: "Why did you not come earlier? And where are the others?" 

Hagrid pulled himself together. " I ... I first had to bury Fang, good dog. Couldn't just leave him lyin' there, like, like... ." He felt his self-control crumble again, but he managed to hold it up. "Well, the others. There was no one to come along." He started to tick the Hogwarts staff off his hands. "Sprout an' Black are dead, Snape, Filch an' Vector are treated in St.Mungo's, Alastor Moody is searchin' the homes of some captured Death Eaters with the Hitwizards, Sinistra an' Trelawney are stayin' with the last kids in Hogwarts until they are picked up by their parents, Remus Lupin an' Flitwick are missin' right now, ..." 

"You may stop here. I understand that no one else is coming to bid the Headmaster farewell. He should have deserved more attention." McGonagall looked over to the bier disappointedly. 

"Yeh can't blame them!" 

McGonagall only shrugged her shoulders. 

"Er, how did he die?" Hagrid asked softly in order to change the topic. 

"Two killing spells at the same time." McGonagall went over to Dumbledore to lovingly pick a stray petal of a flower from his beard. 

"Are yeh with Albus since they brought him 'ere?" 

"Yes, the whole time." 

After a minute of uncomfortable silence Hagrid said: "A brandy or a tea would do yeh good, Minerva. Yeh look exhausted. Let's go to the cafeteria and see what we can find, eh!" 

McGonagall nodded feebly in response and allowed Hagrid to lead her out of the room. In the kitchen adjacent to the Ministry's deserted cafeteria Hagrid uncovered a bottle of gin and two glasses. After the first sips in silence, McGonagall looked at Hagrid. "He died in my arms, you know." 

"I'm sorry, Minerva." 

"He died in my arms. I was there for him. Like always. I was there for him my whole life. He asked me to do him a few last favors. And I obeyed. Like always." 

McGonagall held out her glass for another shot of gin. Hagrid raised an eyebrow, but filled the glass nonetheless. McGonagall drained it at once. She looked down at the now empty glass in her hands. "I can't believe he wanted Severus Snape to become the next Headmaster. Him of all people, an ex-Death Eater. What has he done, that Albus trusted him so much? That he puts the fate of the whole school into his hands? Nothing!" McGonagall spat the last words so venomously that Hagrid flinched. The alcohol had begun to work in her. "And he is only forty. I, I have spent my whole life at Albus' side, supporting him and serving Hogwarts. Every bit of a private life I once had, I put aside for the benefit of the school. Do you think anyone was ever grateful?" 

Hagrid was lost for words, but McGonagall didn't expect an answer. She seemed to have pounded this thought over and over again in her head during the last few hours. " I admired Albus, even fancied him when I was a silly young girl." McGonagall blushed lightly, but continued with a firm voice. "I admired his work, his strength, and I tried my best to keep Hogwarts' every day business away from him, to keep his back clear. That's why he made me his deputy. And I should have become his successor, Rubeus," she added bitterly. "He gave me his signet-ring when he lay there dying, and told me to keep it for Severus. And I assured him I would do so, although I felt like running away and throwing the bloody ring into the underbrush of the forest. If I myself had kept the ring, no one would have doubted that Albus had chosen me as Headmistress. I cannot deny that I considered that option, but in the end I obeyed him as always. It is all a matter of self-control." She lifted a brow and looked at Hagrid. "Are you surprised that I'm capable of emotions like this?" 

"No, o' course not," he hastily replied. "Just wonder what yeh would have done if he really had asked you to be the new Headmaster." 

McGonagall snorted. "What do you think ? I would have blushed, and then declined, of course. That's what everyone would have expected from me. "She shook her had. "Severus has never caused the Headmaster anything but sorrow. I'll never understand what he saw in him." 

"Well, Severus was closest to a son Albus ever had," Hagrid offered. 

McGonagall waved her hand dismissively in front of Hagrids face. Her words became blurry. " I know, I know. But why Severus of all people? In all the years there have been so many bright young people attending Hogwarts. Severus was a troublemaker even when he was a child. And then he joined the Death Eaters. I know it hurt Albus deeply. He came back to our side, but that man is a killer, for Merlin's sake. Albus was only too willing to forgive him everything. We could do all we wanted, he never cared about any of his staff as much as he cared about Snape the Slytherin." 

Hagrid watched the bitter, disappointed woman in front of him. "Yeh know, yeh often love those most, who cause yeh the most sorrow. It's like, like with Fang, yeh know." 

"Oh, come on, spare me. He was a only dog!" 

"No, he was more than a dog. Well, he was big an' dumb, an' even scared o' cats. He used to chase the chicken aroun' in their den, no matter how often I told him off." Hagrid stopped to blow his nose noisily at this memory. "He was nothing but trouble, an' still, I loved him most." 

Silence fell over the two people and the half-empty bottle of gin. 

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_**A/N:** That was the last of my three little attempts in the short-story department. There will be no 4th part. I hope I have given you enough stuff to think about._   
_Thank you all for reading. * bows to an imagined audience*_   
  
  
  



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